to: Sam
by theackles
Summary: Sam told me if he goes through with his plan of throwing him and Lucifer in the pit to write these little stories about what I do after he's gone. I laughed in his face. He's stupid if he thinks I'm gonna do that. But...well, here I am. And this is for you, Sammy.
1. it's not stupid to want you back

I was never good at the whole writing thing, like Sam was. Sam could write an article on an entire case in less than four hours. He always kept a journal, kinda like Dad's, except more about what we did, our adventures as a whole, rather than information on the shit-bags we hunt. When Sammy decided to go through with the plan of throwing himself in the cage...he told me to write about my adventures, like he did with us. At first I thought it was an absolute shit idea. I thought, "I can't write. Hell, sometimes I can't even think straight, much less write down a lifetime worth of little stories." But, here I am, writing damn little stories for my brother.

I feel like an idiot...but this is for Sam, I try to remember. Sometimes that doesn't work. Sometimes, I break down, and I try not to, but I break into tears-and I am right now. It feels so fucking wrong to sit around while Sam's in the cage, just fucking writing about my days and my feelings. I'm doing nothing for him, but then I know I am, because I'm writing these shit little stories how he wanted me to. Out of all the things, Sammy. Why would you ask me to do this? Why couldn't you ask me to save you from the cage, from Lucifer and Michael? Was that any harder to ask for?

Cas came over a few days after you fell. He told me he wanted to give me space, but he didn't want me to do anything stupid, like try to get you back. How could they think that's stupid? Sure, it might involve some stupid stuff in the process, but getting you back could never be stupid, Sammy. Remember that. Anyway, um, Cas came, and I was looking at the empty journal you had saved, like you knew this would come. He asked me what it was, and I told him. His silence was comforting, I'll admit that. And then he started talking about how maybe you staying down there could be a good thing, how you caused stress on my shoulders sometimes. And dammit, Sam, I hit him. I hit him so hard, and the sucky thing about that is he let me, He let me beat him to an absolute pulp, until he was bloody and in a fetal position on the floor. I used him like a punching bag. He looked at me like he knew that's what I needed, but he looked sort of scared anyways, and then he vanished. It's been a little over a week now and I'm scared I lost my only real friend in the world. Sam, I'm scared I'm losing everyone. I'm pushing everyone away, and I don't want to be alone.

Lisa won't take me back, either. I've fucked up too many times with her, too. I've fucked so many people over, thinking I won't need them in the long run, thinking I'll always have you. But I guess I was wrong, for once, huh, Sammy? Bobby's gone, Lisa & Ben are gone, Adam's gone, Ellen, Jo & Ash are gone, Kevin & Garth are gone, Cas is incognito, maybe gone. You're gone, and I'm alone.

I hate writing these things already. Damn you, Sam. I laugh because basically you are, right? Damned, I mean. I'll have to stop writing these for a little bit. I have to recollect myself, maybe hunt Cas down. I'll write back when I can find it in me.


	2. it's killing me, sammy

It's been three days since I wrote. Well, I couldn't find Cas. I still feel like ultimate shit. The world has been fine without you, as far as I've known. I've not really tried looking for a case or anything. I can't really find it in me to actually do the research you used to do, to use you're laptop. I know you're technically not dead, because there was no Hunter's Burial. What you've got is worse. You've got the fucking devil and his rival brother torturing your soul for their amusement down there, screaming for help. If Hell scarred me, Sammy, I don't want to begin to think what it could do to your precious soul.

You know, when Mom brought you into this world, I was four years old. I didn't know nothing. I had it in my brain for a little sister I could protect from all the high school boys and call her princess, and I told Mom to put you back and give me someone else. God, how stupid I was. Sam, you turned out the be the best person I could ever know. Even when you drank that demon blood. I don't even care about that anymore. I forgive you, for that, for everything that ever happened between us. I'll but the blame on me. I was a big problem between us, I know. I was too harsh on you. You're a grown man, but you gotta understand, Sammy. It was my life mission to keep you safe until I was completely unable anymore, and I failed you and my mission so many times. I don't know why I got so many retries.

All I wanted for you was to go to college, be that damn lawyer you wanted to be. I know I seemed like a dick at the time, when you left, but Dad was so angry. I followed him around like a good little solider too much. I should've chosen you, I should've followed you right out that door. God, what's wrong with me, Sammy? Why was I like that? Why couldn't I have been less blinded by Dad?

Sometimes I wish Mom were here. Hell, I always wish Mom were here. She'd know what to do. She'd keep me from being alone. She'd want you back too, you know. Even though you didn't grow up to know her, she loved you a lot. Sometimes I thought she loved you more than me. She probably did, or, does. You were the perfect little man, I was a damn solider in Dad's commands.

I miss you. And I want you to know I love you, baby brother. I'd die to put you back on this earth. I want to, but I know if I try to that you'll have my ass, or Cas'll come back and have it for you.

Is it strange I actually want someone to beat the shit out of me? I can't really do it myself. I want to feel the physical pain, instead of this emotional shit I can't stand. Plus, I feel like I deserve to be hit in the gut a couple times for all the times I did anyone wrong. I'd be practically dead.

I'm pretty tired, Sammy. It's four in the morning, and I couldn't sleep so I decided to write. It seemed to help, so I'm going to hit the hay. I love you, bud.

Five more days later and still no Cas. I think I've given up on him, too. I hurt him. I pray for him every morning I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. I apologize and I guess I just lost the last person in my life. I loved him, too, Sam, like the other brother. So I guess in this journey I've lost two brothers.

Um, you wouldn't like to hear it, but my drinking has become a permanent thing now. Alcohol is like my water now. It's refreshing and helps. Sometimes I wake up with you in my head so much I have to drink just to numb it a little. Then, sometimes I wake up talking about you. I wake up crying, or in a sweat and scared that I've lost you, and when I look over to the empty motel bed, I cry. I just break, Sammy, since when have I ever done that? Huh? This isn't fair, Sam, just give me a sign that I can come get you.

Crossroads Demons don't want my soul anymore. There aren't any witches or anything that would touch what happened, and like I said, Cas is what I've declared gone.

I don't know anymore Sam. No more demons have bothered me since you fell. I'm sure there's more out there, maybe, possibly, but they've left me alone, and for this first time I wished they hadn't. I could get some sort of revenge, or information, just somewhere. But I've been normal. I'm actually considered normal, now, if you can believe it.

It's gotten to the point I think I'm going to stash our fake ID's and badges away for good now, unless you pop back up sometime in the far future. I doubt it, but a man can hope. I think I'm going to be myself, under my own name and age, and just be a guy. Maybe get a job, find a girl, get over Lisa, somehow numb the pain of you. Have kids, because if the demons have left me alone, I can finally do that now, right? But they won't have an Uncle Sammy, and, God, that kills me. It kills me, Sammy. It's killing me.

I can't do anymore today.


End file.
